


Death Save All

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Character Death, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Warnings: This story contains character deaths.  Do not read if thisdoes not appeal to you.Summary: A sudden attack on an offworld base leaves 30 dead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Gen Fanfiction | Death Save All

##  Death Save All

##### Written by GateDemon   
Comments? Write to me at [gatedemon@woolfden.net](mailto:gatedemon@woolfden.net)

  


_Air Force Academy Hospital_  
Intensive Care Unit  
0900 Tuesday, October 10 

She again noticed the one thing she could almost always find in this room -- the thing that she came here for on occasion just to immerse herself in. This room held a quiet, almost reverent atmosphere, one she had come to find in almost any room of its kind when all was as it should be and no emergencies were being attended to. 

She walked through the door of ICU, nodding at the nurse who was on duty this morning and found herself drawn to the one bed that was occupied. Picking up the chart of their current patient, she glanced over the notes that the night nurse had left. When she was satisfied that all was as expected, she replaced the chart and picked up a wrist feeling the strong beating of the man's pulse. The patient still had a way to go physically, but she was more concerned about what his emotional state would be when he finally awoke, for she remembered his final words to her before succumbing to unconsciousness in her arms. Dr. MacKenzie was on call for just this reason and would be paged when the patient did come out of the medically induced coma. 

Seeing that a chair had been placed next to the bed, she sat, hands making fists in her lap. Feeling the anger and the despair she had felt when her patient had first stumbled out of the Stargate, she searched for that place within her that would calm the turmoil. Slowly the fists became hands again and her breathing slowed. When she realized that she had accomplished her task, she looked up and watched the slow rise and fall of the man's chest. 

After a few moments, she felt the presence of someone else enter the room and she listened to the footsteps as they approached from behind her. She didn't look to see who it was, but soon felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She glanced up and into the face of Major Davis. 

"How is he?" he asked. 

"He's doing as well as can be expected," answered Dr. Fraiser. "Actually, better." 

Davis removed his hand from Fraiser's shoulder and looked around the ICU. Spotting another chair, he pulled it over next to hers and sat leaning forward slightly, his hands clasped together between his knees. 

"How long are you going to keep him in the coma?" 

"I'm going to wait until I can take him off the ventilator and when his vital signs are a little more stable. His heart... well you were there. We lost him once during the surgery," she explained. 

Davis nodded, remembering the controlled, chaotic activity of the surgical team to get their patient's heart started again. When they had, he had found he had been holding his breath and that he had clenched his hands so hard that he had left marks on the palms of his hands. 

"All of you did a heroic job saving his life, you know." 

Fraiser turned her gaze to Davis' face. She saw her own concern mirrored on his and gave voice to her fears. "It's not his life I'm worried about now. It's his soul." 

Unable to meet her gaze, he lowered his head to look at his hands instead. "I've, ah, just gotten off the phone with the Joint Chiefs and the President. They're concerned, of course, about him," said Davis motioning with both hands still clasped together towards the man on the bed, "but they're also concerned about the project. They are placing the SGC on stand down until he's recovered, but..." 

"But they want to know if he'll be able to continue on and whether we'll be able to continue with the losses we sustained," she finished for him. 

"Yes. The SGC has never really suffered the kind of loss we're looking at now. Dr. MacKenzie has set up the Critical Incident Stress debriefing and what he's finding isn't too encouraging." 

"I know, but the reason for these types of debriefings is to find the problems and resolve them before they become a detriment to the unit," she said. She suddenly felt a need to move and stood almost knocking over the chair she had been sitting on. "Major. I know you've been around long enough to know that one person's death or," she looked again at her patient, "that the inability of one man to lead isn't enough of an excuse to shut down any project that the military is running. Especially this project. Everyone here is expendable. We all know that. We all knew that when we took this assignment. And the rest of the personnel of the SGC know that and even though everyone is in shock right now, they will come out of it. They're military, Major. Well-trained military. Their training will tell." 

Major Davis didn't stand, but instead tilted his head back so that he could look into Fraiser's eyes. "Yes Dr. Fraiser. I know. The Joint Chiefs know and the President knows. But we're not talking about the loss of one man, either his death or his ability to lead. We're talking about the deaths of almost an entire team that has been one of the major factors behind any successes the SGC has had. We're talking about the death of Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, and Teal'c. And we're talking about him," he said pointing to the man on the bed. "General Hammond has been the one thing that has held this place together from the very beginning. The Joint Chiefs and the President are afraid that losing him as well as SG-1 just might be enough to tear this place apart." 

* * *

_Air Force Academy Hospital_  
Intensive Care Unit  
0900 Thursday, October 12 

"You're bringing him out of it?" asked Davis. 

Without looking up from what he was doing she answered, "Yes, he's starting to breathe on his own and his vital signs have stabilized. We'll bring him out of the coma first and then remove the breathing tube." 

Several minutes passed before Hammond began to stir slightly. Fraiser kept one hand glued to his wrist checking his pulse while watching his face for signs of consciousness. 

"General Hammond? Sir?" she prompted. 

Several pairs of eyes saw the first attempted flutter of Hammond's eyelids as Fraiser's calling of his name triggered a response. 

"General Hammond, you're in the ICU at the Academy Hospital. You were badly injured. You've been in a coma for several days now. Can you hear me, General?" 

Hammond's eyelids fluttered some more, finally settling on a semi-open position. His eyes behind were unfocused, but slowly changed and Fraiser knew that he was aware. 

"General," she said, succeeding somehow to smile, "welcome back." 

Hammond's gaze moved slowly to her face and when she had his attention, she continued. "General we have you on a ventilator but we're going to remove the breathing tube now. What I need you to do is take a deep breath and then blow hard when I tell you to. Do you understand?" 

He nodded. 

"Good." Fraiser removed the ventilator hose from the mouthpiece and waited for Hammond to inhale, then she took the mouthpiece and started to pull as she said, "Now." 

Hammond blew out and the tube was removed. As soon as it was, he began coughing and Davis reached for a glass of water to give to him if he should want it. 

"General, don't try to speak now. Just nod your head. Okay?" 

Hammond did. 

"Do you know where you are?" A nod. "Do you know why?" A shake, then a slow nod. Fraiser glanced quickly over at Dr. MacKenzie who was standing on the other side of Hammond's bed and just as quickly looked back down at Hammond. 

"General it isn't unusual for you not to remember all the details surrounding what happened to you." A nod. "Dr. MacKenzie is here and he's going to remain here until you feel like talking." 

Hammond's eyes moved from Fraiser's face, to Major Davis standing next to her, to Dr. MacKenzie's then back to Fraiser. Both Davis and MacKenzie acknowledged his glance. 

"SG-1?" Hammond whispered, then coughed. Davis offered the water glass he was still holding and Hammond took a sip of water. 

"General," said MacKenzie, "you've been through a lot in a very short amount of time. With Dr. Fraiser's permission, do you feel like discussing it now?" 

Hammond's eyes found Fraiser's again and she nodded. 

"Yes," he said. "I have to." 

* * *

Hammond watched as Fraiser and Davis left the ICU, leaving him alone with the charge nurse and MacKenzie. After a few moments, he turned his attention to the psychiatrist and waited, for what he wasn't quite sure. 

MacKenzie sat and placed a small tape recorder on the bed tray that held Hammond's water jug and a box of tissue. 

"I hope you don't mind General, I'm going to tape this and all of our sessions together. It's for my files and a lot more accurate than my taking notes -- doesn't seem as intrusive for some reason either," explained MacKenzie. "I think it's because people tend to get a little nervous when they see me starting to scribble in a notebook wondering what I'm writing down," he added smiling. 

"I don't mind." Hammond's voice was rough and just barely above a whisper. Hearing himself he added, "I don't know Doctor. My voice..." 

"Will come back in a short time. Your larynx has been roughed up a bit by the breathing tube, but it will recover shortly." 

"Tell me." 

"I don't know much General," said MacKenzie shrugging. "I do know that there were only two survivors from the attack on P4A127. You and..." 

Hammond quit listening. The only thing he could concentrate on was the word two. Two survivors means 30 people dead. Two survivors and he was one of them. That meant that SG-1 was gone. He felt a feeling he had hoped he'd never feel again, but knew he would. The kick in the chest and the feeling of emptiness and loss he had felt when his wife had succumbed to her cancer. His mind almost shut down. Hammond turned eyes filled with dread towards MacKenzie. He had to know. 

"General?" asked MacKenzie. 

"Who..." his voice broke and he coughed. MacKenzie handed him his water glass and he took a sip. Clearing his throat he began again, "Who else survived?" 

"Dr. Jackson. You and he stumbled through the Stargate clinging to each other." 

"Daniel Jackson. Dr. Jackson is alive?" Hammond's head turned frantically looking around the ICU for another occupied bed but there was none. His bed was the only one in use. 

"Dr. Jackson is in a private room, General. His injuries were bad, but we were able to move him out of ICU yesterday." 

"How bad?" 

MacKenzie hesitated. "General, we need to concentrate on you. On getting you back on your feet." 

"Dammit MacKenzie," swore Hammond, his voice cracking, "Dr. Jackson is one of my people. I have a right to know." 

Acquiescing, MacKenzie answered. "Dr. Jackson lost his right leg and will probably never see again. There was severe damage to his eyes that can't be corrected by surgery." 

Hammond turned to look at the ceiling. A weight descended on his chest and he found himself wishing it would just crush him into unconsciousness... unconsciousness or death. Either would be welcome now. 

"General," said MacKenzie. 

"Go away, Doctor." 

"General I don't think that's wise." 

"I said go away . If I have to, I'll make it an order." 

"General, you know as well as I do that under these conditions your orders..." 

"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, DOCTOR." 

The charge nurse hearing the outburst from her patient, stood and walked rapidly to Hammond's bedside where she automatically took his wrist to check his pulse while at the same time looking at his bedside monitor. Then she threw an accusing look at MacKenzie after she had reassured herself that the General was stable. 

MacKenzie stood. "All right, General. I'll check back on you in an hour. If you need me before then, the nurse can page me." 

MacKenzie left leaving the nurse to cluck over Hammond. She smiled at him as she fluffed the pillow under his head and tucked the sheets a little tighter around him. 

"General, if you need anything at all I'm just over there," she said when she was finished. 

Hammond nodded and kept staring at the ceiling and the nurse seeming to realize that she wasn't going to get any other response, silently walked back to her desk where she picked up her phone and dialed Dr. Fraiser's private line. 

* * *

Jack, Sam Carter, and Teal'c... all dead. And all those others who were there. He knew their names. He knew their faces. He saw them as they flashed before his mind's eye. Each face... young and eager... young... too young to die... too young. 

A single tear slipped from his eyes as he shut them, trying to shut out the images of all those faces, the sound of their voices. Voices he had heard in laughter and in pain and terror as memories flooded into his mind. 

* * *

_Air Force Academy Hospital_  
Intensive Care Unit  
1100 Same Day 

Janet's heart tore in her chest as she saw the tear track left on Hammond's sleeping face. She knew it was not the result of physical pain, but emotional pain. Even if he didn't remember it all, he would remember the faces of all the people who had died. He had seen first hand the result of staff weapon blasts upon the human body and his imagination would fill in the gaps when his memory didn't. She knew all this and wished there was some simple way to help this man as he worked through this, but she knew there wasn't. 

"How is he?" asked Davis. He had seen her coming into the ICU and had followed her. 

Janet quickly wiped away the beginnings of a tear of her own and reached over to pick up the General's chart. "He's sleeping. All his vital signs are stable. Physically he's recovering." 

"I heard he kicked MacKenzie out," he said. 

"Yeah," she nodded. "The nurse called and told me. He's not ready," she added as she put the chart back. 

"I think MacKenzie's concerned that he never will be." 

Janet turned to face the young major. "MacKenzie is the first one to know that this is going to take time... probably a lot of time. But eventually, he'll face it. He's that kind of man and you know that as well as I do. You've been around him enough." 

"I know, Dr. Fraiser. I know," said Davis. "And I also know that he's the kind of man that even though he'll know here," he said tapping his forehead, "that there wasn't anyway he could foresee what was going to happen... prevent what happened, here, in his heart he'll still blame himself because it was his idea... his plan." 

"That's the rub, isn't it? It was his idea. It was a good idea." 

"I know that, too, Dr. Fraiser. An off-world base was something that everyone was thinking of. The advantages to it were enormous for the SGC. We could sent teams out from both there and here and if there was ever a problem, like what happened during that affair with the Russians, our off-world teams could still Gate to somewhere safe. It was also a world with a Gate that wasn't on the Abydos cartouche. Someplace the Goa'uld hadn't discovered yet." 

"Hadn't discovered yet. I guess we were wrong," she said looking once again at her patient. 

Davis followed her gaze. "Yes, we were wrong." 

* * *

_Air Force Academy Hospital_  
Medical Briefing Room  
0900 Saturday, October 14 

"He's completely withdrawn into himself," said MacKenzie. "He's conscious and he's aware, but he won't respond to anyone except to you, Dr. Fraiser, and your nurses. And then only to his physical condition. It's basically the same with Dr. Jackson." 

"It's only been a couple of days, Dr. MacKenzie. You aren't giving up on them, are you?" 

Fraiser, MacKenzie, Davis, and the head nurse of the ICU, Lieutenant Rebok were the only ones seated around the massive table. They had met every morning since the incident to compare notes on both patients... Hammond and Jackson and to update Major Davis so he could inform the Joint Chiefs of what was happening. 

"No, I'm not going to give up on them," answered MacKenzie. "Major, my only concern is for my patients and right now that includes not only General Hammond and Dr. Jackson, but the entire SGC... especially those who are equating the recovery of those two with the recovery of the SGC. 

"I've read all the CISD reports and I can tell you that the shock is beginning to wear off with the personnel here, but with the death of Colonel O'Neill and the others on his team they are concerned that the SGC will not be as successful as it has been. Colonel O'Neill was an icon here. As long as he and his team were alive and able to somehow miraculously get out of trouble the way they did, all was well. Now with them gone, there is a lot of doubt... the tables have turned and their luck has run out. Add onto that they might lose General Hammond, well you can see where I'm going. The Joint Chiefs need to be aware of this if they are going to be able to make a decision about the future of the SGC." 

"Let me see if I've got this straight. You have doubts that the SGC, with the existing personnel, will function the way it did before this incident." 

"Yes." 

"What do you suggest?" 

"It isn't my call, Major, but I would suggest that the majority of the people be replaced. That will make General Hammond's recovery less of a concern for them. New personnel will not be going on any assumptions that O'Neill's survival meant the survival of the SGC, or that General Hammond is the only one who can successfully head up the SGC." 

"What? You want to replace everyone at the SGC?" asked Fraiser. 

"No Doctor, just those that continue to see this as a permanent drawback... something that can't be overcome." 

"And how many are we talking about, Dr. MacKenzie?" asked Davis. 

"Probably about half. I'll have figures for you by the middle of next week." 

* * *

_Air Force Academy Hospital_  
Intensive Care Unit  
1300 Saturday, October 14 

"Nurse," called Hammond. 

"Yes, sir," said Lt. Rebok who was picking up Hammond's lunch tray ready to call a corpsman to come and retrieve it. 

"I want to see Dr. Jackson." 

"Sir, I don't know. Let me ask Dr. Fraiser." 

"Tell Dr. Fraiser, Lieutenant. I'm still a general," said Hammond. 

"Yes, sir." Lt. Rebok walked away with the lunch tray and set it on top of her desk. Hammond watched her as she picked up the phone first calling for someone to come and pick up the tray and then calling Dr. Fraiser. He strained to hear what she had to say, but she had turned her back on him and was talking very softly. He could only pick up a few words and those told him nothing. He saw her nod her head and quietly replace the receiver onto its base as she turned around to face him again. 

"General, Dr. Fraiser is on her way over." 

"Not MacKenzie." 

A ghost of a smile appeared on the lieutenant's face, but disappeared quickly. "No, sir. Not Dr. MacKenzie." 

"Good." 

As Janet walked into the ICU she glanced quickly at Hammond before joining the head nurse at her desk. Hammond followed her with his eyes. A hushed conversation took place between the two women and once he saw Fraiser smile. Then she looked over at Hammond, saw that he was watching them and she walked slowly over to his bed. 

"Hello General." 

Hammond saw lines etched in Fraiser's face that hadn't been there before, dark circles under her eyes, and an overall tiredness dragged on her mouth and chin. "You look tired, doctor." 

Janet smiled. "Well, sir. It's been a kind of hectic week." 

"And I'm responsible for some that, aren't I?" he asked. 

Hammond watched as her smile vanished to be replaced with a look of worry. "Now General..." 

"I'm not talking about the attack, Janet," he said using her first name and hoping that that would calm her worry some. "I'm talking about all of this," he said raising his arms to indicate all the IVs and other gadgets attached to his body. "No one has really sat down and explained to me what my condition is... I guess I really haven't let anyone," he admitted. 

Janet had her hand on the back of one of the chairs that had been pulled up to the General's bed. She looked down at it, then moved around to sit. 

"Sir," she began, "when you arrived through the Stargate you were critically injured. You've suffered Staff Weapon blasts on your back and both of your legs. You also had several broken ribs resulting in a pneumothorax from a collapsed lung. There was severe bruising around your heart and fluid had started to accumulate in the pericardial sac surrounding your heart. We rushed you here in a helicopter and you were in surgery for over 8 hours when it was discovered that there was also a slight tear in your aorta." She paused and when she saw Hammond nod, she continued. "Your heart stopped once on the table, but we were able to shock it back. Given the extent of your injuries you're making a very fast recovery." 

"And Dr. Jackson?" he asked hesitantly. 

Janet's eyes dropped to her lap and she took a deep breath. "Daniel's injuries were extensive but we were able to stabilize him at the SGC before bringing him here. Even with that, they are going to have a more permanent effect on his life than yours. His right leg has been amputated at the knee. The damage that was sustained from a Staff Weapon blast was just too much to repair." 

"And his eyes?" 

"It was another blast from a Staff Weapon. Our plastic surgeon has hopes that there won't be much scarring, but his eyes were burned severely. They don't think they are ever going to heal to the point that he will regain his sight." 

He turned his face away from Fraiser, closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. She seemed to know that he needed this moment to absorb what she had just told him for she didn't move or say anything until he turned back to her. 

"May I see him?" he asked quietly. 

"I'm afraid that there isn't any way to accomplish that right now. You can't leave here and he can't leave his room to come here either," she answered. 

"Doctor. I have to see him," he pleaded. "I need to see him." 

"Sir I wish there was a way, but right now it's impossible," she said firmly placing a hand on his arm. "Maybe in a day or two. I can tell you he spends a lot of time asking about you." 

Hammond's eyes widened. "Asking about me?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Why?" 

Hammond watched her face. Over the time they had worked together, he had become quite proficient in reading her thoughts by her facial expressions. She was almost as easy to read as Jack was... no, as Jack had been. At this he felt a sudden stab of pain in his chest at the thought that he wouldn't ever be able to spar with the colonel again. He tried to keep that thought from showing on his face, but apparently didn't succeed because Fraiser glanced sharply towards the monitors that were steadily recording his vital signs. Seeing nothing there to alarm her, she turned slowly back to face Hammond. 

"Doctor?" 

"General." 

"You were going to tell me why Daniel has been asking about me? Is he just inquiring about my injuries or does he blame me for what happened?" When she didn't answer right away, he prompted, "I can take it Janet." 

"General. Daniel has gone into complete denial about what happened. His mind has woven a very convoluted scenario of what has happened. He's convinced himself that this is a Goa'uld plot and that they are working in conjunction with those aliens that invaded the SGC last year... the ones that were able to take our thoughts and make themselves look like us." She paused. "He believes that all of us, those familiar to him, are aliens and the rest are Goa'uld. He believes that if he could see you... talk to you... the two of you together could start some sort of rescue attempt going." 

Hammond drew a deep breath. "But me, wouldn't he believe if he saw me that I was one of the aliens also?" 

Shaking her head, she sighed. "That's where just a little bit of what actually happened seeps through. Part of his mind knows that you and he were the only two survivors and he's latched onto that. He believes that you are really you, but that the rest of us..." 

"I understand, doctor. Then wouldn't it help if I were to see him... talk to him?" he asked. 

"No General, not at this time," answered MacKenzie who had quietly walked up to Hammond and Fraiser while they were talking. 

"Why not?" asked Hammond. 

"Because it wouldn't help you." 

* * *

Hammond looked above Fraiser's head into MacKenzie's face. "Explain yourself, doctor." 

Fraiser smiled when she heard the steel in Hammond's voice and saw the look of confidence and determination in his face. She stood and faced MacKenzie. 

She had been arguing with him for days about telling the General the truth about Daniel, about what was happening in his mind. She felt that Hammond needed to hear it and that it would help him in his emotional recovery. She had tried to explain to him that Hammond needed to feel responsible, not for the death of all those people on P4A127, but for the recovery of the only other survivor. He needed to feel in control again. MacKenzie had disagreed with her saying that he was the expert in these matters and that he knew that it would only hinder Hammond's recovery to see how badly injured, mentally and physically, Dr. Jackson was. Just now, hearing Hammond order MacKenzie to explain, she felt she was right. The look she was now aiming in MacKenzie's direction, she hoped would put that point across to him. 

MacKenzie seemed to ignore her look as he took the chair that she had just vacated, but his first words to Hammond indicated otherwise. 

"General. Both you and Dr. Jackson suffered severe physical injuries which are in the purview of Dr. Fraiser. Your psychological injuries are even more severe and are in my purview. I deal with PTSD on a daily basis. You are both suffering from it. Dr. Jackson has decided to hide in a bit of fantasy. You, on the other hand, realize what has happened but in not talking about it, you are withdrawing just as Dr. Jackson is. Until you can face and accept what has happened and move on, you won't be helping yourself and I can't help you either. Because of that, I can't authorize a visit to Dr. Jackson until such time as I see that you have started down the road to recovery." 

Fraiser watched not only Hammond but the monitors as well and when she saw Hammond's blood pressure begin to rise with each of MacKenzie's words she interrupted. She somehow had to convince MacKenzie that the best thing for both men was a sort of group therapy. 

"Dr. MacKenzie... a moment if you please? General, we'll be back." 

Not giving MacKenzie a chance to decline she turned and walked out of the ICU nodding at Lt. Rebok as she passed her desk. The nurse seemed to understand what she wanted because she rose from her desk and headed towards Hammond's bed. There she began clucking over him; fluffing his pillow, checking the leads to all the monitors, generally forcing her way between Hammond and MacKenzie who hadn't stood to follow Fraiser yet. Janet turned at the doorway to look back and saw that MacKenzie had finally stood and was walking her way. Satisfied she continued out of the room and down the hallway about 50 feet from the door. 

While waiting for MacKenzie to join her, she started to compose in her mind what she felt she had to say. Knowing the two men, Hammond and Jackson, better than MacKenzie she knew that the only way to bring them both back from the edge was to get them together. When she had heard Hammond order MacKenzie to explain himself she knew instinctively that now was the time. She had to make MacKenzie understand that. 

"Dr. Fraiser," began MacKenzie, "I don't like having my authority questioned when it comes to my patients. You're a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist. Telling Hammond, against my strict orders, about Dr. Jackson was a violation of your medical license and your standing as an officer in the Air Force. I've a mind to bring you up on charges." 

She let this diatribe roll off of her back. MacKenzie could be an ass, but he was also a professional. It was that part of him that she had to reach. 

"Dr. MacKenzie, I'm aware that I disobeyed a direct order from you not to tell General Hammond about Dr. Jackson's mental condition. I realize that you believe that it will only result in the General's being unable to face what has happened by learning that not only has the only other survivor of that massacre been horribly disabled, but that his mind has gone as well." 

"I'm glad you finally see..." 

"However," she interrupted, "I know these two men better than you. You've worked with PTSD on a daily basis. I've worked with these two men on a daily basis. I know, better than you, how the minds of each of these men work. I know, better than you, that they need each other right now. They are the only two survivors and they are being forced to remain apart from each other. Neither one of us knows for sure what happened on that planet, neither one of us knows what they went through to get back through the Stargate to get here. They do. Like everything else that has happened in our complex, they have to face it together. It's the only way they are both going to come out of this fairly whole again. They need each other to do that. 

"Dr. MacKenzie did you actually hear General Hammond in there? Did you listen? Did you see the expression on his face when he asked you, no ordered you, to explain?. It was not your patient talking to you then; it was the General of the SGC. If you deny that, then you are the one hindering his recovery by making him feel that his orders aren't worth following any longer... that he has lost command. Don't you see that?" she pleaded. 

* * *

_Force Academy Hospital_  
Intensive Care Unit  
0600 Sunday, October 15 

Major Davis stood in the hallway outside of the ICU with Dr. Fraiser while the nurses and orderlies were wheeling Daniel Jackson's bed into place next to Hammond's. 

"Is this going to work?" he asked. 

Fraiser nodded. "I think so." 

"MacKenzie was so adamantly against it. How did you change his mind?" 

Fraiser smiled remembering her conversation with MacKenzie in the hallway outside the ICU the day before. "I didn't. The General did." 

"Huh?" 

"Well actually I just pointed out to MacKenzie something he missed. Something the General said and did," she responded. 

"You'll have to tell me what it was later," he said. 

Fraiser left Davis and entered the ICU. She walked over to Daniel's bed to make sure that everything had been done by the nurses to ensure that he had been moved safely. She had asked that Daniel's bed be situated so that both men could reach out to touch each other. Somehow she knew that they would need some form of physical contact during this time together... even if it was just being able to touch the arm of the other. 

Daniel was still sleeping soundly, totally unaware that he had been moved back into the ICU. As she looked at his face, still covered by bandages, she felt once again the despair and the wonder she had felt when she had first seen him coming through the Stargate with General Hammond. How these two men, so badly injured had managed to get themselves through the Gate still amazed her, but it only hardened her conviction that if they were to heal fully they would need each other. She found herself reaching out to touch Daniel's cheek with a soft caress which caused Daniel to stir a little in his sleep. She glanced over at his monitors. Satisfied by what she saw, she walked to the other man sleeping in the next bed. 

It had been her idea to move Daniel while he and General Hammond were still sleeping, but she did want to talk to the General first before he saw that he had gotten his wish. All during his stay in the ICU, Hammond had wakened at 0630 and it was almost that time now. So she stood and watched for the first signs that he was waking now. As soon as she saw his eyelids begin to open, she whispered his name. She watched as his eyes slowly opened all the way and began to focus at the same time turning his head towards her. 

"Good morning, General." 

"Doctor." 

"General you have company. Daniel has been brought in here to you... no don't look yet, please," she hastened when she saw him start to look around the room. When his eyes turned back to her she smiled. "Daniel is still asleep, but he'll wake soon. I wanted to tell you what you're going to see when you see him for the first time. Are you ready?" 

Hammond nodded. 

"Daniel's face is bandaged covering his forehead and eyes down to his nose. That area is going to look misshapen and swollen because of the guards that are there to keep him from moving his eyes. He has almost as many tubes and wires hooked up to him as you do. That shouldn't be a surprise. You are going to be able to see where his right leg has been removed at the knee. Okay?" 

He nodded again. 

Seeing the looks that crossed his face as she described Daniel's condition, her heart tore in her chest. But it didn't lessen her conviction that what they were doing was right. She smiled at him again. 

"General, I need to tell you that working with you and the SGC has been an honor. It's an honor I'd like to continue for as long as I can. That place, those people, need you more than they've ever needed you before. I honestly believe that you are the only one that can bring us back to what we were before this horrible incident. I also think that you're going to need Daniel as much as he needs you... as much as he is going to need to still feel useful even with what has happened to him." 

Her voice almost broke and she fought to keep tears from burning their way out of her eyes. She needed to finish before she could leave him to begin what he had to do. 

"The two of you survived for a reason and I think that between the two of you talking, working it out, you'll find that reason." 

Hammond lifted a hand from the bed and took one of hers... squeezing it gently before letting go. "I'm ready, Janet. Thank you." 

She smiled and nodded at him. Looking up she saw that Daniel was beginning to stir to wakefulness. She looked back at Hammond, tilted her head a bit to indicate that Daniel was waking up, and then walked slowly and softly out of the room. She didn't look back, nor did she stay to listen. Whatever was going to happen here, in this room, was going to be something private... something that was meant to be shared by only the two men who now occupied this room together. 

* * *

_Cheyenne Mountain_  
Outdoor Tent  
Two Months Later 

Major General George S. Hammond stood on the podium that had been placed under the tent awning erected in the trees a hundred yards or so from the entrance to NORAD and the SGC. He scanned the hundreds of faces arrayed before him. There were a few new ones, but not one person had been transferred out of the SGC after the attack that had taken from them Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Teal'c, and the 27 other SGC personnel who had died that day. He felt a touch of pride in these, his people and their dedication to the goals and the memory of those that had died. 

There had been a small memorial service shortly after the massacre, but Hammond had been unable to attend. Now, two months later, he was back in command and one of his first orders had been to put this service together. 

He took a moment to glance at the people on the podium with him; Dr. Janet Fraiser, Major Davis, the Secretary of State, the Secretary of the Air Force, Joint Chief of Staff for the Air Force, and Dr. Daniel Jackson. As his eyes met Daniel's, he nodded and was rewarded with a nod back. Daniel's eyes under the skillful hands of the best opthamalic surgeon in the world had recovered enough so that he could see... not perfectly, but enough to continue working as a consultant to the SGC. With that nod, Hammond began. 

>   
> _With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children_  
>  England mourns for her dead across the sea.  
> Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,  
> Fallen in the cause of the free.
> 
> Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal  
>  Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.  
>  There is music in the midst of desolation  
>  And a glory that shines upon our tears.  
> 
> 
> They went with songs to the battle, they were young,  
>  Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.  
>  They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,  
>  They fell with their faces to the foe. 
> 
> They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:  
>  Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  
>  At the going down of the sun and in the morning  
>  We will remember them. 
> 
> They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;  
>  They sit no more at familiar tables of home;  
>  They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;  
>  They sleep beyond England's foam. 
> 
> But where our desires are and our hopes profound,  
>  Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,  
>  To the innermost heart of their own land they are known  
>  As the stars are known to the Night. 
> 
> As the starts that shall be bright when we are dust,  
>  Moving in marches along the heavenly plain,  
>  As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,  
>  To the end, to the end, they remain. 

He paused and looked out again at the sea of faces before him. 

"Those words by Lawrence Binyon greet us all when we visit Arlington National Cemetery. They remind us of those that fought for freedom and paid the ultimate price for that freedom. They remind us of those that died. 

"We're all here today to remember those that fell on P4A127. We're all here today to remember our friends -- friends whose voices and laughter we'll only hear in our memories. Friends whose faces we will never forget. 

"Those of us here, and those of us who have fallen, carry with us a great burden. One that we cannot share with the rest of the world. In carrying that burden we will never be heralded to our peers for that which we do. We will never receive the support or the recognition that this burden demands. We fight a lone battle against a force that the world must never learn of. 

"If we succeed no one is going to throw us parades; no one is going to erect statues in our honor. There will be no memorial to the fallen in the Washington Mall. 

"We do this, as it should be, unselfishly for the good of everyone who now lives and for those who have yet to be born. We do this not for just the people of the Earth, but for the millions of people on all the other worlds we've come to know and for those we don't. We do this without reservation and with no great expectations for individual reward. 

"We do this because we hope... we do this to offer hope to others who had no hope before. 

"Those men and women who died on P4A127 will be remembered. We will remember them and we will carry those memories with us where ever we go. We will carry those memories with us when we do succeed in our battle against the Goa'uld and when we can finally use the Stargate as it was originally intended years ago by the Ancients... as a means of peaceful exploration... as a means of meeting and sharing and learning from those we meet. 

"And that is the legacy that those who died on P4A127 have left us. That is the legacy that we must take with us as we leave here today and resume operations. That is the legacy that we must never forget." 

Hammond turned slowly and sat down next to Dr. Fraiser. His head held high with the pride that he felt for those that had died and those that lived. The SGC would continue and it would continue with a renewed strength. The strength given to it not by his meager words alone, but by the strength that shone from the man who was now stepping up to the podium... the strength he shared with Daniel Jackson when the tears that both had shed dried not so long ago in that room... 

That room that held a quiet, almost reverent atmosphere, one he had come to find in almost any room of its kind when all was as it should be and no emergencies were being attended to. 

**~ The End ~**

* * *

>   
>  © February 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.  
> 

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is a response to a challenge made on FFSupport@smartgroups.com. 

* * *

  



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